


Mother Knows Best

by mother_finch



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: F/F, Gen, mother-finch fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-06
Updated: 2015-07-06
Packaged: 2018-04-08 00:26:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4283688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mother_finch/pseuds/mother_finch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>PROMPT: prompt: Shaw and Root visit Shaw's mom for a dinner party or something. Root goes to "help out in the kitchen" and asks for her blessing to marry Sameen</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mother Knows Best

Root feels an almost doom-like cloud storming over her head, with the knocking of the door thunder, and the brightness that spills from it as it cracks open her lightning. A young boy of about thirteen peeks out at them, beady black eyes studying Root without trust.

"Come  _on_ , Casper, it's freezing out here." Upon hearing the voice, the young boy's head whips to the shorter woman at Root's side. Almost at once, his dark eyes brighten joyfully.

"Sameen!" He cries out happily, then pulls the door open wide. The two walk in, all the while Casper hovers at Shaw's side. "Where have you been?" He asks. "I haven't seen you in a  _long_  time. Are you still a marine? Who is thi-"

" _Casper_!" A man's thick and authoritative voice brings the boy to instant submission. "What have I told you about asking so many questions at once?"

Looking to his shoes, a pink color rushes to his cheeks. "It is rude," he replies, and the man grunts with a nod. Another knock hammers at the door, and he looks between it and Shaw, torn.

"I'll tell you all about it later, okay?" She says to him, roughing up his hair with a hand. His boyish smile returns, and he runs off.

"Who was that?" Root asks below her breath, bringing her mouth close enough to Shaw's ear for her to feel Root's breath. There is a slight smile on her lips at seeing Shaw's reaction towards the child.

"Cousin," Shaw replies in the same manner, and Root gives a small nod in understanding.

"Do my eyes tell me right?" The man asks, thick black beard moving about, although his mouth is unseen. He shares the same, dark eyes as his son, but his face bares a close similarity to Shaw's. A large grin spreads across his face, and Shaw gives him a small but genuine one in return.

"They do," she replies, and his rumbling laugh overcomes the room. Stepping forward, his height dwarfs Shaw, and he envelops her with large arms to a tight embrace. She stands as a statue, eyes connecting with Root's over his shoulder, and Root smiles coyly her way.

* * *

 

Stepping back, he keeps each of his enormous hands on her shoulders, looking her face over intently. He scans her eyes, then studies her every facial feature. She stares back at him without interest, although Root can feel the discomfort softly radiating from her.

"You look more like your father each time I see you," he tells her quietly, a tone not quite fitting for his large form. "Which is not often, I might add." A lopsided smile pulls up his lip. "But you will always have your mother's eyes." Gazing to the side, he acknowledges Root's presence for the first time.

"This a friend of yours?" He asks, looking Root over. She gives him a kind smile, although a nervousness like no other still wracks her body.

"Not exactly," Shaw replies. He gives a hearty laugh at that, and the house shakes on its foundation.

"You were always one to isolate yourself," he chastises, giving her a humorous but scrutinizing eye. "Never crediting yourself for the people around you."

"That's not what I meant, Darius."

" _Darius_?" He interrupts incredulously, the term like acid on his skin. "Is that  _all_  I am to you?" Shaw, pursing her lips with the roll of her eyes, takes a composing breath.

"Uncle, Dari," she says in a strained manner. He smiles, soothed, then turns back to Root.

"You may call me Dari," he says to her, sticking out a hand. Root sticks out her own, and it is swallowed up in his.

"Root."

"Root," he muses, letting the name roll about in his head. "Sounds like the name from a child of hippies, if you ask me."

"Uncle  _Dari_ ," Shaw hisses angrily, and he gives her a shrug of the shoulders in return. Looking past them both, a large grin stretches from ear to ear, and he steps past them both.

"Ah, Anahita," he greets in a loving tone, clasping his hands together. "Cyrus, so glad you could make it."

Root, hands ringing each other before her, leans into Shaw's side.

"I thought this was dinner... with your mom," she says, inner dread dying to escape. Shaw shrugs her shoulders.

"Me too."

As Darius steps aside to talk with a tall, lanky man of their age, a woman slightly taller than Shaw walks up to them. Her eyes are like sapphires, a far contrast from the other two people Root has come to meet so far, but she has an identical smile to the boys. Tucked under her arm, Casper looks up towards her with an affectionate smile. Her eyes, however, fall only on Shaw.

"When Casper said you were here, I didn't believe it," she says kindly, eyes looking as if she wants to hug Shaw, but she keeps herself held back. "I haven’t seen you in-"

"Eight years," Shaw finishes, and the woman nods back grimly.

"It's good to see you," she replies. "We have some catching up to do." On that note, she turns her attention to Root. "I am Anahita; Sameen's cousin." Root, rarely hearing Shaw's first name spoken by anyone other than herself, finds the throwing around of it wildly overwhelming.

"Hi," Root gets out, past her nerves. "I'm Root, Sha- Sameen's uh," she stops; swallows hard. Anahita looks Root over with the slightest raise to her eyebrow; then, something clicks, and a devilish smirk appears on her face.

"I suppose we have  _more_  than just  _some_  catching up to do," she says to Shaw in a teasing tone, then walks back towards the hall where her father stands. Shaw, after making sure Anahita is out of sight, turns to face Root with a what-was-that-about glare. Root, slightly flustered, gives her head a sharp shake.

"Can you tell me  _now_?" Casper's voice reaches up to them, and they both peer down at the same time. Unlike before, when he stood up a stair upon answering the door, he seems fairly small for his age. He has a small voice to match his small frame, and a face that screams of innocence and youth.

"I'm sure she will be more than happy to tell you everything you'd like over dinner," a woman's voice answers from behind, and Root whirls around smartly on her heel. What greets her is a short woman with her hair in a tight bun, face serious but eyes showing the glint of a smile. Instantly, Root knows who she is.

Shaw's mom.

______\ If Your Number's Up /______

"I thought you were going to be the only one here," Shaw confesses to her mother as the three walk towards the house's kitchen. Upon entering, they are greeted with the bright white of walls, cabinets, and appliances; the only break being the smaller square tiles of black speckled in amongst the white.

"I thought so at first," her mother muses, scurrying straight to the fridge. "But then, I thought, 'How long has it been since Sameen came around?' and 'How long will it be til the next time?' No, I couldn't let the opportunity slide."

"So you invited our whole  _family_?" Shaw exclaims, a hint of shock lacing her agitated words. Her mother chuckles.

"No, just your uncle and his two children. Ana's husband was an unexpected surprise. There is  _nothing_  wrong with a dinner party." She grabs out a few chilled bowls, handing them over to Shaw. When her eyes flitter up, she takes Root in, then hands her a bowl. "And who are  _you_  to complain?" Her mother continues. " _You_  brought a guest."

Shaw rolls her eyes, and her mother tuts. "The first time I actually see you, and the first thing I get is that eye roll of yours? I thought you'd have grown out of it by now." Root feels a large grin overcome her features, all the while Shaw doesn't even crack a smile. However, there is a play in her voice when she speaks.

"How could I?" She asks her mother with a wicked flare of humor. "You still do it." Her mother closes her eyes, shaking her head quickly a few times. With a dish towel in hand, she flaps it Shaw's way.

"Oh, get out of my kitchen," she says, but only in good nature. Shaw heads out, but Root- on edge- remains stationary.  _It's now or-_

"You coming?" Shaw asks, looking Root over suspiciously. At once, she can tell something is off. Still, Root puts on a confident smile.

"I'll be out in a..." She trails off as Darius and Anahita both walk in, ready to help. With so many people now in the kitchen, and Shaw aware of something out of place, Root feels apprehension once more clutch her chest. With a silent sigh, she weaves her way past the people and back to Shaw.

"You  _okay_..?" Shaw asks cautiously, and Root replies with a brief nod.

"Fine."

Shaw looks as if she's ready to call Root out on it; however, the rest of her family storms the scene, and she is forced to bite her tongue. The table is placed to the brim with a wide array of food, Darius and Shaw's mother filing out last with steaming pans that smell heavenly. Taking their seats, everyone begins to eat and to talk.

"So what's brought you back here?" Anahita asks. She sits close to her- as Shaw now knows- husband, and their hands rest side by side at the table.

"Got a call from my mom. Sounded like a good idea," Shaw replies simply, looking over at Root. They, too, sit side by side in close proximity, but Root keeps her hands from the table, fearful they might show her constantly growing nerves. Root's nervousness dies slightly at the look on Shaw's face, and she reads her thoughts exactly.

What she  _wasn't_  adding to the story was the fact that it only  _'sounded like a good idea_ ' after Root's tireless persistence and wistful excitement over the topic. In two days time, she'd worn Shaw down from a definite no, to a  _'fine, so long as you come with me.'_   _Which_ , Root thinks with a dazzling smile,  _I'd do gladly._

"When did  _that_  happen?" Shaw asks, nodding her head towards Cyrus, wanting to keep the questions away from herself as early on as possible. At the notion, Cyrus's chiseled face breaks into a smile, and Anahita blushes deeply.

"Two years ago," she replies with a certain ineffable joy in her voice. Root lets the sound reverberate in her mind, and thinks of how such a feeling must feel. She doesn't say anything else; however, Root catches her eyes on Shaw as she gives an almost unnoticeable pointing down at herself to a spot just below the table. From the corner of her eye, Root can see Shaw's eyebrows raise a fraction, the two obviously having a long-established line of silent communication.

Anahita smiles proudly, but the grin soon melts into a devilish smirk. One Root realizes must be hereditary, for she'd seen it on Shaw and knew just what it meant. It was the sly coolness of knowing she has her prey cornered, and the excitement of watching it walk out to her open mouth. A baiting smirk that already knows the answer- knows the world's secrets- but still wants you to voice them aloud for her own enjoyment.

"And you  _must_  tell me, Sameen," Anahita replies casually, "when did-"

"Are you still a marine?" The small voice bursts out from Shaw's side, cutting Anahita off. He'd been vibrating in his seat since dinner began, bottling up all his childish impatience until he could bear it no longer. Shaw looks over at him with an amused smile, and Root can feel butterflies awakening in her stomach.

"Not anymore."

"Then what are you?"

"Persian."

"You've  _always_  been  _that_ ," he puffs out indignantly. "I mean what  _job_  do you have now?" Root has a brief second of trepidation, not knowing what Shaw's answer would be, nor her own if the question was bestowed upon her.  _I was so busy with the other thing, I completely forgot._

"I'm a physician." She speaks to him kindly, but not as if he is too young to understand. Looking to her right, there is an irrepressible fondness in her eyes for Shaw, acknowledging this warmer front towards her small cousin.  _Is she always like this with kids?_  Root wonders, but has little time to ponder the thought.

"A physician!" Darius exclaims, delighted grin on his face. "How excellent!"

"I agree," Shaw's mother adds in with an approving nod, her eyes shimmering with pride. Root has to agree with Shaw's uncle- the two share the same set of brown eyes. Their features have much in common, their character even more so, but those eyes are undeniable. "You've always been terribly smart; this is a good practice for you." Root can feel Shaw's confliction at her side, the first true problem Shaw has seemed to face since arriving. There is a straightening of her posture, but at the same time a minute slouch in her lip, as if this seemingly harmless complement is a needle in her eye.

Whether she noticed or not, Shaw's mother turns her gaze away from Shaw, focusing in on Root. Her eyes scan over Root's face, studying her with a stern eye before speaking. "And what is it you do?"

"I... work with computers," she answers, and Shaw snorts. Root throws a distasteful glare Shaw's way, but her lips remain sealed. Her mother looks between the two curiously before directing her attention back at Root.

"That is interesting," she acknowledges, her words trimmed with the thickness of an accent. Unlike Shaw's young cousins, the two adults have tongues riddled with Farsi roots. "What do you do with computers?"

"Whatever they need me to," she replies vaguely, and Shaw's mother nods her head. After that, smaller conversations ripple out between the different parties, no longer one large Q-and-A with everyone listening in.

"Your family seems nice," Root whispers over to Shaw, who cracks a microscopic smile.

"Sure," she replies, humored, but Root presses the manner.

"You  _don't_  think they are?" She questions, and Shaw shakes her head lightly.

"I didn't say that, Root," Shaw replies nonchalantly, shoveling in a mouthful of food. From across the table, Root can feel a pair of eyes burning into the side of her cheek, yet tries to ignore it. "Family gatherings just... aren't my thing." Root purses her lips, unconvinced, and Shaw bumps into her shoulder playfully, all the while encasing Root's hand in hers. "Lighten up."

Root melts at the touch, and can almost let the topic go- almost. She thinks of the table- of Shaw's family- and how apparently natural this all seems. Related people sitting around in a space together, talking and joking. Something she'd never known. And it is more than everything she always thought it would be.

"I just hope you know that they're great, Sam."

Everything falls instantly silent. Around her, the table is no longer filled with laughter and hushed murmurs. Instead, it is corpses in a graveyard. Every clink of forks on plates has ceased, and all chuckles are cut abruptly short. The room seems to hold its breath, each person turning to statues before her eyes, and she becomes quite alarmed. Shaw's mother's eyes are lit with a fire that Root cannot distinguish.  _Is it fury? Is it excitement?_  Her guess is as good as a blind man's.

Unlike the rest of her family, Shaw stays animated. Peering over at Root, she gives her a coy, lopsided smile that sends shivers down Root's spine and butterflies through her blood. Root can feel her vision tunneling, the gaze making it seem as if the two of them are the only two in the room, the house- the world.

But just as quickly as it came, it vanishes. Shaw turns her head back to her plate and continues to eat, as if nothing has even happened. Taking a cue from Shaw, Casper follows. Slowly, the other four members join in.

"Because you used to be a marine, does that mean you can still have a gun?" Casper asks with an innocent curiosity, looking up with wide eyes at Shaw.

"Casper," his father growls in a warning tone, but Shaw waves him off.

"I guess I could," she says with a shrug of her shoulders, and Root's easy smile returns.

"Do you still get to wear the uniform?"

"No." His face turns glum at that, and Shaw tilts her head to the side. "Do you want to be a marine?" She asks, and his features instantly perk back up.

"Yes!" He nearly shouts, bouncing with excitement. "It would be  _so_  cool." Shaw looks him over a minute with a mock quizzical air before a Cheshire Cat grin slinks onto her face.

"Do you know what job you  _really_  need?" She asks him seriously, and he shakes his head, eyes coming wide as he absorbs each word Shaw says. "You should be a  _vigilante_ ," she tells him in a low voice, and he sucks in a gasp.

"Like  _Batman_?" He asks, energy radiating from every pore in his body, and he nearly hums off his seat.

" _Better_  than Batman," she responds, and Root tries not to laugh at Shaw's amiable disposition towards this child. This family that she wasn't excited to see again, but treats as if she's secretively missed them all. "Just think about it," she says with a voice like a story teller. "Saving people all the time, shooting bad guys, and avoiding the government." Casper's eyes grow larger than his head with the thrill of her words, and an awe inspired grin consumes his features.

"That's totally awesome!" He shouts, just as her mother spits, " _Sameen_!" With her face coming back to neutral, she looks to her mother with an even gaze.

"Don't fill his head with such  _nonsense_ ," her mother fumes, eyes smoldering, searing into Shaw's flesh. Shaw doesn't even flinch. "Such a job doesn't  _exist_." Without a smile or even an acknowledging spark in her eyes, she gives Root's hand a knowing squeeze.

_____\ We'll Find You /_____

"The head on that child, I don't even know where to begin," Shaw's mother fusses, piling dishes into the sink. Root, after protests from Shaw and kind beckons from Anahita to stay, had refused her way into the kitchen on clean up duty. With Shaw's mom. Alone. The second she entered, fear slithered into her limbs like a snake, hissing discouragement in her ears and constricting her heart. With cold feet and a pounding pulse, she crossed the space towards the sink, forcing her fingers not to shake like leaves during hurricane season. "How you put up with her, I have no clue." Her mother chuckles to herself with an easy roll of her eyes, turning the faucet on.

"Ever since she was a child, always filling that boy's head with stories." Root laughs kindly at her disapproving tone, then sets to help with washing the plates clean. Shaw's mother continues to think aloud, leaving Root unsure if she's being confided in or not.

"Did you all live together?" Root chances the question, knowing this could go two ways. Her mother nods, her face- like Shaw's- expressing little emotion at a time.

"My brother-in-law moved here just after Casper was born. It was a good thing for Sameen; she... didn't adjust well here," she says, busying her hands with the dishes. Root, however, barely scrubs, too absorbed in the story of Shaw's past. "She could have," her mother continues, almost longingly. "Beautiful girl- beautiful mind- she just wasn't into making friends. Never let anyone into that head of hers. The kids changed that." A ghost of a smile softens her features as the memories play across her eyes. "I think it's because they remind her of her father. Casper more than the others," she says with a laugh. "He was only five the last time we saw her, but  _Lord_ , he never shut up about that girl."

Root looks down at her hands, indulgent smile on her face as she places the first dish in the drying wrack, then reaches for another. "Did she talk a lot to them?" Root asks, genuinely curious.

"Oh, no no no," her mother responds. "Anahita-  _she_  was the gabber." Shaw's mom opens and closes her hand in the gesture of speaking, and Root laughs. Shaw's mother, too, joins in, and Root can see Shaw more distinctly in her than ever. "But she was always telling Casper stories. And oh God, you'd think he thought them something holier than a bible. She was in the Marines then, always telling him fabrications of battles. He was a boy; he loved it." Root smiles, heart seeming to swell large enough to make it harder for her to breathe. But then, a thought hits her, and her blood turns to ice.

 _She doesn't even know who I am to Shaw_ , she thinks with a cloud of anxiety making its way over to her.  _How will I ever-_

"Are you alright, dear?" The term of endearment catches Root off guard, and a slight blush comes to her cheeks.

"Fine," she replies meekly, and Shaw's mother brings a skeptical eye her way. After a minute, Root swallows hard, the words eating her alive. "I need to tell you something." The words rush from her mouth like machine gun fire, making it impossible to tell the syllables from the spaces.

"I know it." Root halts, mid-scrub, and looks over at her.

"You- you  _know_?" Shaw's mother nods.

"I was not too sure at first," she confesses to Root, who sluggishly returns back to her work. "I do not like to assume. But after your pet name, I knew it." Root nods, feeling one of two pressingly heavy weights lifting from her shoulders. "Sam..." The word leaves Shaw's mother's mouth with a mix of things. It has the euphoria of a pleasant memory; the longing of something lost and not returned. "She would only ever let one person call her that when she was young..." She stops speaking at that, but Root feels that she knows exactly where the story would have led anyway.

Silence fills them for a time. Every now and then the pressure of water greets them or the clinking of a glass, but not a word is spoken aloud.

But inside? Inside it is a football stadium and a circus and a presidential inauguration all booked at the same venue in Root's crowded mind. Every thought she wants to say clashes with another, until she is far too troubled and far too stressed. Her cleaning becomes mechanical, and- before she realizes it- the sink is empty.

Walking to the counter, Shaw's mom takes the dish towel and dries her hands before handing it over to Root.

"Do you know what 'Sameen' means?" She blurts out, and Root looks at her, shaking her head. Shaw's mother smiles a smile only a mother could get right, and leans on the kitchen's small island. After a moment of letting the suspense grow, she says, "Precious." Root smiles, looking down at the towel in her hands sheepishly.

"Fitting." Shaw's mother lets out a startling laugh.

"Don't tell  _her_  that," her mother cracks out. "She will surely go for your throat." Root nods, giving her that one. But, even though she struggles against it, the last, pestering thought forces its way to the front and center of her focus, restricting her from anything close to enjoyment.

"May I- uh- may I ask you something?" Root asks, hearing a small tremble in her voice. Of all the things she'd done in her life- proud of or not- she'd never been so nail biting nervous. She only hoped it didn't show as much.

"Anything."

Root bites her lip, crossing her legs one over the other, then crossing them the opposite way. She folds the towel, unfolds it, refolds it, then places it down on the counter. Her breath is short, and she forces one long lungful before looking back to Shaw's mother.

"Could I, if it's alright, have..." She closes her eyes, breathes, continues. "Could I have your blessing?" The words send an erratic beat to her heart the second she hears them escaping her lips, and her hand rests on the countertop to keep balance.

Shaw's mother's eyebrows raise up in a form of surprise, and Root can feel her stomach plummeting. "You love her that much?" Her mother asks, and Root nods, seriousness and genuine truthfulness radiating from her being. A quirk of a smile tugs at the corner of the woman's mouth. "God's speed," she murmurs out. Root's stomach stops its decent, a strand of hope now shimmering before her.

"That means-"

"Yes, yes," her mother tells her with the flick of her wrist, coming close to take the towel before turning back around.  _The motions are so normal, so easy, it's as if she's asked this every other day_. However, for Root, it's something she'd never thought she'd hear, and it takes a moment to sink in.

Three, four, five seconds pass. Then, her hand comes to her mouth to smother the squeak that tries to escape her mouth. It feels as if an explosion has torn through her, a bomb of bliss and gratitude and joy. That joy she'd heard in Anahita's voice, now only it is her own.

"You seem surprised," Shaw's mother states obviously, standing back before Root. "Ah, she must not have told you about the phone call. Nonetheless," Root's eyes flare at the reference she doesn't quite understand, but it is beyond Shaw's mother at this point. "You should be going back out there."

"Thank you," Root says, voice filled to the brim in gratitude. If there were ever a drug she took, she knew this is what a high would feel like. The floating sensation, the way nothing can touch her, like she is above all the bad things on the ground, out of reach of all the hands that could try and pull her down. She is on a cloud sickeningly high, but feels not a single sense of vertigo.

"It is good to see her smile so much," Shaw's mother replies in place of a  _'you're welcome'_ , and Root can feel her face flush before turning cyanotic. She'd never thought she made Shaw smile any; on the contrary, she thought it the other way around

Together, they step from the kitchen, and wander over to the living room; Root feeling as if she's floating more than anything. Coming to the room, Shaw's mother places her hands on her hips, lips in a purse, but Root can't help but grin.

Shaw lays on the floor, looking up to Anahita as she chatters, mouth never ceasing to move. Her hands are animated, nearly smacking her husband across the face a few times as her arms fan out, but he never once ceases to smile at her, eyes humored and affectionate at the sight of her. Darius, on the far couch, has dozed off with a loud snore, leaving Anahita to speak ever louder. Shaw nods to show she's paying attention, all the while a squealing is emitted from something just below her. Casting her gaze down, Root is amused to see Casper laid out, arms and legs moving like a bug caught under a stone, all the while laughing. He pushes at Shaw's shoulders, trying to get her off, but she barely budges. All in all, she looks like a kid among kids, relaxed and a million miles away from stress and numbers and responsibilities. _It looks good on her_ , Root decides, just as Casper looks up. His eyes connect with hers, and an opportunity sparks in them.

"Root!" He shrieks. "Help!"

Upon hearing the name, Shaw casts her head up, shocked to see Root standing so close. A chagrin flicker appears in her eyes for being caught in such a state.

" _Roooot_!"

She takes a step forward, and Shaw's eyes instantly harden.  _Don't you dare_ , they say, and Root only half suppresses a grin.

Root gives her a cock-eyed counter glare that replies,  _Just you try and stop me._


End file.
